


Instinct

by aries_taurus



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Comfort, Family, Gen, Self-Doubt, Sick Steve, i dunno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 18:45:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aries_taurus/pseuds/aries_taurus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's terrified she’ll be her usual disappointment, that he’ll look at her with those eyes again.</p><p>Mary and Steve, Mary's POV, about being a mother and a sister and being scared but being strong too.</p><p>**Rating for a couple bad words. No incest because ew (but that's me.)***</p>
            </blockquote>





	Instinct

**Author's Note:**

> I like writing Mary-Anne. She's fun and conflicted and outrageous and... so many things.
> 
> No beta, per usual so let me know if I have goofed.
> 
> This has been in my WIP folder for a while and tonight somehow, it got finished. I'm kinda proud of it so I hope you like it.

* * *

 

She unlocks the door, shoves it open with her hip, glad for the deep slumber her daughter’s fallen into. It’s late and if she wakes up now, she’ll fuss and not fall back asleep before dawn and Mary will be a zombie for her first day at her new job.

She puts Joan down quietly, hopefully not waking Steve. Her brother the ninja is a light sleeper and well, he’s a freakin’ ninja, so.

She closes Joan’s bedroom door and leans against it, inhaling the scent of the old house. It warms her heart to be here, somehow, glad that Steve had insisted she stay with him until she got settled. It’s been so nice to see him turn into a pile of mush, playing with Joan on the carpet in the living room or the back yard, taking her into the water with him, trying to teach her to swim. It makes her picture her brother with a kid of his own, if the guy ever admits his love for Catherine and oh ewww, she just got that image of him having an orgasm and just… no.

She shakes her head and heads towards the bathroom, shaking her head. She just needs to take off her makeup before she goes to bed. She needs to be fresh in the morning. She needs to get up early to get Joan ready and make herself presentable and drop Joanie off at daycare and she needs to-

“Jesus fuck!”

She can’t help the curse that flies of her mouth as she jumps out of her skin. Of all the things she expected to see in the bathroom whens she flipped the light on, her brother sitting in a heap against the tub, crumpled against the toilet, wasn’t one of them.

“What the hell are you doing on the floor in the dark? You about gave me a heart attack or whatever.” The words are still coming out of her mouth mostly unfiltered because yeah, he scared the living shit out of her. Only he doesn’t answer her, just screws his eyes shut against the light and swallows heavily.

Her brain comes back online and she sees just how pale he is and oh _fuck_ what is that smell?

“Steve? Are you okay? You sick or something?”

“Turn off the light,” he says, more a whisper of a plea than anything else. She does, still a little too shocked to react otherwise. There’s a half-gasp, half-groan and she hears him puke, ragged and wet and wretched. He coughs and spits and pants and half of her wants to run because it’s disgusting and the stench maker her want to hurl too and she somehow can’t stand to see her brother weak like this but the other half wants to stay, help, do something for him. She figures it’s that maternal instinct thing that’s kicking in.

There’s enough moonlight coming through the window that she can see him now that her eyes are acclimating to the darkness. He’s on his knees now, draped over the bowl. There’s a disgustingly wet burp and more puking and she can’t stand it. It’s not funny like it was when it was one of her drunk friends and it’s not like Joan regurgitating. This… Her brother’s sick and she’s terrified but… she can’t just _leave him there_!

She leaves the bathroom, heading for the kitchen, breathing a little harshly. She’s not that girl; not anymore. She isn’t. She has a kid. She’s a responsible adult, now.

Then, why is she so scared?

She grabs a washcloth from the linen closet as she goes and wets it with cold water before grabbing a bottle of that blue sports drink Steve keeps in the fridge and one of water before heading back upstairs. She hears the toilet flush as she’s halfway up but when she gets back to the bathroom, Steve’s still on the floor, back to sitting against the tub.

She kneels next to him and watches him for a few seconds, watches him breathing hard, watches the remnants of tears dry on his cheeks. His chin’s wet too and she shudders inwardly but she doesn’t think before moving. She wipes his face gently, erasing the tears and sweat and wiping the vomit off his chin.

The weirdest thing is that he lets her do it.

“Here. Rinse your mouth,” she says softly, uncapping the water bottle and offering it to him. He opens tired eyes and she can see the dullness in them in the moonlight.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice rough, scratched, brittle. She’s not used to him like this. To him letting her see him like this.

He takes the bottle from her hand and she’s surprised at how hot his skin is against hers. Again, she doesn’t think and just puts her hand on his forehead as he sits back after spitting the water he swished around his teeth into the toilet.

“You have a fever.”

“I know.”

“What’s wrong with you?” she asks, gentle. Not like she is with him, usually.

“Virus. Caught it from Gracie, I think. She was sick a couple days ago. Spent the afternoon sleeping on Danny’s couch. She woke up and threw up in his office and I cleaned it up while he took care of her.”

He tenses and grunts and groans, lurching for the toilet again in a single second, somehow shoving the water back in her hands.

This time, she sticks by him; rubs his back and puts the cloth on the back of his neck as he hurls and heaves until there’s nothing left in him to bring up, just pitiful, empty efforts that twist his body in on itself.

When it finally stops, he just… he goes completely limp and still in a huff of air, draped over the bowl and she’s suddenly terrified.

“Steve! No, no! Hey! C’mon!

“M’ ‘kay,” he mutters, heaving in sudden, uneven breaths. “Jus’ tired.”

“Fuck, you scared me. I thought you’d… passed out or something.”

He huffs out something like a chuckle. “You worried ‘bout me?” he asks as he raises a weary hand to flush the toilet.

“Yeah, asshole, I’m worried, okay? It’s not like I’ve ever seen you sick before.” It comes out abrasive because he’s that good at making her feel inadequate and like a screw-up, like she’s broken beyond fixing. It doesn’t help that soon it’ll be only him and her, no one else, no family and seeing him like this reminds her of what he did for a living, what he does, how it can go bad in a second and she’ll be alone, truly alone, with no one to count on, no one to be there for her and she’ll have to be there for Joan all on her own and god why did she ever think she could do this? She’s been living in fear of this her entire life, ever since their mom… And sometimes she thinks that why she’s the way she is; that she never could face that fear of being alone and maybe it’s the only reason she got Joan is that she won’t end up alone.

It’s not.

Still, there’s a little tiny bit of her that thinks that’s what she did.

“I was just kidding, Mare,” he says quietly, his voice working its way back more towards normal. “I’m just not used to… being taken care of. You’re good at it.”

“You’re just saying that so you don’t feel ashamed of tossing your cookies in front of your baby sister.” It comes out joking, but it’s better than what she thinks; that it’s really why she’s here, to make fun and that she doesn’t care.

He shakes his head. “No. I… Look. I might have doubted at first with Joan but… I was wrong. You… I didn’t… My baby sister’s all grown up and… maybe I’d given up on you ever getting there and… I’m sorry. I should have known better. Trusted you.”

She laughs at that, watery and unsure. She never _could_ lie to him. “Don’t celebrate so fast. You might be right after all. I don’t know… I don’t know if I can really do this. You have no idea how scared I am.”

“It isn’t about being scared or not. It’s acting despite the fear and you are. That’s called courage, Mary. It’s called being brave.”

She doesn’t know what to say to that so she doesn’t speak. Being called brave and courageous isn’t something she gets often. And she’s proud of what he sees in her but terrified she’ll be her usual disappointment, that he’ll look at her with those eyes again.

She’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t happen.

“C’mon, Ninja boy. You need some sleep and I have work in the morning. I’ll even tuck you in if you’re good.”

He grumbles but he lets her help regardless. She does tuck him in and she sits up against the headboard, rubbing the back of his neck until he’s asleep. She stays there a long time, just sitting in the dark, watching over him.

She falls asleep, her head against his shoulder and she doesn’t mind and she knows he won’t either. They’re family; her and Joan and him.

It’s them against the world and she won’t let anything stop them.

Not ever herself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, for kudos and comments. I'll be CRAZY busy in the coming weeks so I apologise if I don't respond quickly.


End file.
